


Lost Arts

by Iniren



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Breakfast, F/M, Fluff, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 04:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21504901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iniren/pseuds/Iniren
Summary: Episode tag for "Attached"
Relationships: Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Lost Arts

Research

Dr. Beverly Crusher beamed with satisfaction. It had been a relatively easy process to find the ancient procedure considering the Enterprise's vast library of knowledge. It took far longer to adapt the archaic methods to the conveniences built into modern starship life.

Aside from having to program the holodeck, replicating necessary supplies, and modifying stasis units; the skills necessary were largely out of practice. Fortunately the Titian-haired physician was raised by her grandmother, who felt it was important to understand traditional methods of doing things. As a child, Beverly groaned having to use primitive means, while her peers enjoyed the convenience of technology. Of course when circumstances required it, her grandmother's insistence helped them survive in a disaster without the need for technology, as well as help others.

"Well, Nana, I hope you'd be proud," she thought, chuckling at the memory of the petulant child she'd been. 

"Crusher to Picard," she called as she tapped her communicator.

" Picard here. What can I do for you, Doctor? " came the crisp answer.

"Change of plans. Report to Holodeck 4. There's something I have to show you...a result from an experiment," she replied.

" Acknowledged. Picard out. "

Walking from his quarters, he wondered what the doctor had planned. As much as he loved breakfast with her, he said a silent prayer that she wasn't preparing an elaborate breakfast. He chastised himself for the minor complaint; her friendship was more important than the menu. Over the weeks after their mission to Kes-Prytt and their homecoming dinner in his quarters, she'd kept her distance and he'd allowed it. Both of them were baffled by that evening, it had been too exposed for their guarded natures. Then she finally invited him to share breakfast again. It was a pleasure and relief, a sign things had not changed for the irrevocably.

As the holodeck doors slid open he was struck by the scent of croissants and coffee, as he stepped into the path leading to a small cottage. He was struck by the simple details, the soft sounds of nature and the morning sunshine glistening on the dewy garden shrubs. It reminded him a little of village cottages in LaBarre. Knocking on the door, he heard her welcome him inside.

He smiled, as she stepped forward with a coffee pot toward the breakfast table. In the morning sun streaming through the kitchen windows, she appeared to radiate an ethereal glow like a figure in ancient stained glass window. She looked serene, more so than she'd been in weeks.

"Well, Jean-Luc? Don't just stand there come sit down," she said cheerfully, extending a plate of croissants toward him. "Try these, I think you'll be surprised."

He settled into the proffered seat, unable to contain a smile as he noted her cheerful demeanor. As he took a bite, she watched him intently. He immediately noticed, the texture and flavor of his breakfast staple. "These aren't replicated," he stated with understated surprise.

"Nope. My experiment. You wouldn't believe what hoops you have to jump through to bake in a modern replicator world," she said with dramatic exasperation. 

"I didn't know you knew how to make them. It's somewhat a lost art," he observed.

Smirking she answered, "Neither did I. There were a few disastrous attempts, but seeing as both of us enjoy a simple breakfast, it seemed worth the effort."

They quickly settled into their normal banter, despite the atypical setting. He laughed, as she related how she'd had to modify stasis units for chilling and proofing, her struggle to locate and propagate lyophilized  Saccaromyces species and having to override holodeck safety protocols to allow for a oven to get correct temperatures. "Apparently, Jean-Luc, baking has become so antiquated that the computer feels that the oven temperatures are too much of fire hazard.I had to program a handheld fire suppression device before it would actually allow the temperature."

"Well, I'd consider your experiment wonderfully successful. I haven't had a real croissant in... well a very long time. Having one at a kitchen table like this, probably not since I was a child," he said. 

He observed her eyes and smile fade just a bit as he spoke. Reaching for her hand, he gently asking in his low baritone, "Beverly?"

Shaking off whatever dark thoughts had clouded the moment she brightened her face once more, but he held her hand fast. She quickly squeezed his hand in response."I'm glad you're here. I'm sorry I've been keeping my distance," she said, then added softly, "I feel like I owe you an apolog..."

"You don't," he interrupted. Both knew they were each nursing their own hurts, but somehow it was better facing them together. They needed no explanations, no apologies; they had travelled beyond the need for such things.

Beverly looked hard at the half-eaten croissant on her plate, the flaky layers swirled around in concentric paths. "It's really amazing, Jean-Luc. Just a few simple ingredients really, a series of interesting turns, and a lot of time...you get something lovely and nourishing, something to savor."

"Something good for the soul, even if it comes about rarely," he added. 

The two friends looked knowingly at each other, both realizing the words weren't entirely about breakfast.

She nearly made a joke about the caloric content of croissants, but it seemed incongruent with their current mood."Yes, I'm glad you're here," she said softly.

"Beverly, I'll always be here as long as you'll have me."She nodded, "Same to you. So tomorrow for breakfast in my quarters?"

"No, my turn I think. But, Beverly, I think we should come here again sometimes?"

"You can count on it."

**Author's Note:**

> Frustratingly canon for P/C shippers, but hopefully somewhat satisfying.


End file.
